Waiting
by Alfendi Layton
Summary: "When you become a woman, then we'll get married." "I already am a woman." He just snorted, "You ain't a woman yet." "Well, the last time I was in the bathroom, I'm pretty sure what I saw was a vagina." "A vagina doesn't make you a woman, kiddo. Well, I mean it dose, but I'm talking about something different." How was I suppose to know what he meant, I was only twelve years old..
1. Chapter 1

Waiting

It was 3:30, and I had just gotten home from school. I dug the house key out of the depths of my backpack and unlocked the door.

I was relieved to finally be home and away from school. Honestly, I know what you must be thinking. You're probably guessing that I'm bullied, that nobody understands me, ect, ect. Nope. My problem with school is the same problem every other kid has. I just don't like it.

I hate cliches and melodramatics, I refuse to be one of those kids who thinks the world is out to get them just because things don't always go the way I think it should. I completely understand school, and why it is so important that I go. And honestly I don't mind learning, but what I don't understand is why I have to learn things which don't interest me. Why can't I just go to the classes I like?

I sat my bag down next to the kitchen table where I would be starting my home work soon, but I needed to change out of my God-awful uniform first.

As I looked through my dresser for everyday clothes, I found myself thinking of the Neither World, wishing so much to just burn my homework and be done with it. I seriously considered half-assing it. At least on the subjects that bore me, but then I think better of it. I've always been a decent student. Not the best, not the worst, but at seventh grade I'm half way through school, so I figure there's no reason to start not caring now.

I pulled my clothes off and quickly redressed in denim shorts that were almost too big on me, and black shirt. I wasn't up to styling my hair, so I just shook my head back and forth it make it look less uppity.

I started out of my room, heading back to the kitchen to start on my assignments, when I heard what I thought sounded like someone tapping on glass.

Gee, I wonder who that could be?

I looked over my shoulder to see who else but Beetlejuice giving me his crooked idiotic grin while waving.

"Busy?" he asked, about to step from the mirror.

"About to be."

Sometimes he would come to my world. The world of the living, or the world of the 'air suckers' is what Beej would call it. I always made sure my parents were gone when he came over. And if he came over while my parents were home, well, I made sure we were quiet. Honestly, it wasn't hard to get away with. My parents were incredibly oblivious. They never questioned why I would bring two sodas to my room, or why my hair and cloths always smelled like smoke, or where I would go when I was gone all Saturday and Sunday. It was almost like they didn't care. I didn't think too much about it. I was just happy that I wasn't getting caught.

Then again, they did check on me every once in a great while...

He shot me a nasty look, "What are you about to be so busy doin' that you can't come to the Neither World with me?"

I stepped back into my room, closing the door behind me. "Start on my home work."

"Can't that wait til later?"

We have this argument at least twice a week. He wants me to drop whatever it is that I'm doing and goof off with him in the Neither, and I say, 'I can't, I have homework,' and then he says, 'what's homework?' and I have to go on a thirty minute explanation of what home work is, then he says, 'school is a waste of time' so then I have to explain the importance of school, and by the time we're done arguing about it, I have some how mysteriously ended up in the Neither. Not this time, though. I'll win this time.

"Sorry, but it can't this time, Beetlejuice."

"Aw, c'mon, " he urged, sounding very convincing, "Thee times the charm!"

"Nope." I was committed to winning this, "I'm finishing my home work tonight."

"Well, can I come over then?"

"Can you be quiet while I do my home work?" I asked.

"No."

I exhaled a groan of irritation.

* * *

He'd told me once that the only way he could be free was if he got married to a living woman. I asked him, "Then what are you waiting for?" I wanted to know why he wasn't looking for a wife. If all he needed to be free was a wife, why was he wasting time playing NES (which is what we were doing at the time) with me?

He didn't pause the game, he never even turned his eyes from the screen, "I'm waiting."

"For what?" if I had been stuck in the Neither World as long as he had, I think I would put a little more effort into getting out.

"You to grow up, duh." he said as if I should've already known, pausing the game and giving me the finger for no reason.

So that's why he wasn't looking. He'd already found his wife. Oddly enough, I wasn't bothered by this. I was only twelve years old, I thought he was joking.

He un-paused the game, then sent Luigi careening off the edge of the platform, "Fuck."

I reached between us and took a handful of popcorn, "You didn't even give me an engagement ring," I said through the popcorn in my mouth, "Or even ask for that matter."

He send Luigi off the edge again, losing his last life, "Well, the reason I didn't ask is 'cause you don't have a choice." he said taking a handful of popcorn for himself, "When you become a woman, then we'll get married."

I have no idea why I didn't think to ask why I apparently didn't have a choice. Maybe it was because it was my turn to play.

I jumped over a Goomba, bounced off another, and then hit the bottom of a block and got a fire flower. I shot fire balls at the on coming enemies, smiling when I heard Beej muttering, 'show off'.

"I already am a woman."

He just snorted, taking more popcorn from the bowl, "You ain't a woman yet."

"Well, the last time I was in the bathroom, I'm pretty sure what I saw was a vagina." I cringed, I hate that word.

"A vagina doesn't make you a woman, kiddo. Well, I mean it dose, but I'm talking about something different."

"Shoot!" I walked right off the floating bricks and fell, "What are you talking about, then?" I asked as the game took Mario back to the starting point of the level.

He bit a piece of his red, chipped finger nail off and spit it on the carpet, "Uh, it's like... It's not so much the vagina that makes you a woman, it's more like what comes_ out _of your vagina that makes you a woman."

I reached the flag at the end of the level, "Ew, you mean pee?" I felt embarrassed now.

I could feel Beej staring at me. It was one of his famous looks he gave me when he thought I had said something stupid, like the one he gave me a minute ago when he flipped me off.

"Babes," he asked.

"Yeah?"

"What the hell are they teaching you in school?"

"I dunno, I don't really pay attention," but we both knew that was a lie, because I always made As and Bs.

It was 4:30, Mom and Dad would be home soon. I paused the game and got up from the floor and stretched. "You'd better get going. It's almost time for my parents to be home."

He didn't get up. He took my controller and resumed the game, "And? When has that ever been a problem?"

I picked up the popcorn bowl which now had nothing in it but un-popped kernels, and the empty yoohoo cartons from the floor. "They've been checking in on me lately."

He used up all of Mario's lives, so he switched controllers again, "Then tell them _not_ to check in on you. Yer not a baby, sheesh."

"I think they noticed how often I disappear." I looked at him, still laying on the floor, "Maybe I should visit less."

The next second he was floating in front of me, holding my wrist in his fist tight enough it almost hurt, "Lyd," he started, "That, is a really, really, bad idea." he dragged me closer, "I don't care what you have to tell your parents, but do not stop visiting."

He sounded angry. At me. I don't know what I could've done to him, but I didn't care. I was sorry regardless, and I was ready to say as much if he would just stop looking at me like that.

I placed my free hand over his, urging him to let go, "Okay, I won't. I promise."

He cracked a smile then, "Good! Say ya later, babes!"

And just like that, he was gone.

* * *

I was sitting down at the dinner table, quietly eating as my parents chatted on about work, politics and anything else that was boring because that's what grown ups like to talk about. I usually don't pay much attention when they talk about their day. My mind is always somewhere else.

I look down at my plate, noticing I've barley touched my food. I look back up at my parents, who are still talking about boring stuff I don't care about.

"May I be excused?"

"No. Anyway, that house will need renovati-" Dad wasn't harsh, or snappy, but the way he just went back to his conversation a second later kinda bugged me. It made me feel ignored. And lonely. It was times like this when I would cram my face as fast as I could, so I could go to 'bed'.

I never considered myself to be a needy child. I was used to keeping myself entertained, being an only child and all. But, why did I feel like they should be paying attention to me? I clearly didn't want them to, considering they could find out about my ghostly adventures in the Neither. Some part of me wanted them to find out. So they would know, that even if I wasn't significant, that I was friends someone who was.

It's funny. You could pass right through Beej, yet he seemed more real, more solid, to me than my parents did at the time.


	2. Chapter 2

I really didn't live up to the whole Goth reputation. I thought of it as more of a fashion style than I way of life. I didn't cuss, I didn't fight, I wasn't suicidal. I was a pretty good kid. I tried to be at least. The only bad thing I ever did was run away. And boy, did I run away a lot.

At one point I was staying in the Neither World every night. Me and Beej would usually pass out at his place after some ridiculous adventure. Normally I was sure to be back in my bedroom before my alarm went off and I had to get ready for school, but sometimes Beej would nudge me awake with his boot, (for some reason I always fell asleep on the floor) and would say, "Don't you have school er some shit?" and then I'd get up, brush the cigarette ash from my shirt which had been on the floor where I had fallen asleep, and go home. This went on for months.

Tonight was a little different than usual. We didn't almost die. (for some of us, again) We just hung out at Beej's house all night watching old movies and eating junk food. Let me rephrase that. I was eating junk food. Beetlejuice was eating bugs.

"This place is almost like a parallel world," I said, "This is just like Psycho, but different."

Beetlejuice gave me his world famous do-you-even-hear-yourself-talk look, and said, "This is nothing like Psycho. Look," he leaned over the edge of the couch and pointed to the screen, "That shit ain't fake." He was talking about the blood flowing down the drain.

"Yeah, I'm sure it's not, but if you could split both scenes down the middle and put them together, you would probably never tell the difference."

He scooted back and crossed his legs, saying something under his breath, but I didn't catch what he said.

We said nothing for a long time. He was fairly interested in the movie, and I was scrutinizing it to death, trying to figure out how Beetlejuice _couldn't_ see the similarities in the two films. He could be really stupid at times.

I was sitting in the floor at the time, occasionally working on a building of a pyramid made from cigarette butts when the movie got to the boring parts.

As I've said before, he smoked around me all the time, and every once in a while, he would pull two cigarettes from the box and offer me one. I turned him down every time except once, but that's a story for another time. Anyway, he'd shrug and poke the turned-down cigarette back into the box and light up. No, 'aw c'mon, don't be such a goodie two shoes.'

Same for drinking. Sometimes he would hand me some kind of Neither World brand of beer. I always turned it down though. It smelled worse than the cigarettes.

You must think that Beej was a bad influence. Well, he was. But he never encouraged me to do anything too bad. Or maybe he just didn't bother trying, because he knew I had too good an up bringing. Either way, I was set in my ways as much as he was his.

Beetlejuice uncrossed his legs and stood up, "I gotta take a leak," he said as he walked around the couch.

"Do you want me to pause the movie?" I called to him.

"I dun care." he called back.

Since he didn't care, I didn't waste the energy to pause the movie.

I leaned way over on my side and scooped up more butts. I must've had about four packs worth in front of me, and it made for a very large pyramid.  
It could've been bigger, but I was too lazy to get the butts that were out of my reach, so I dropped the last one on top and left it as it was.

The sound of a can opening signaled Beeetlejuice's return.

"Before you sit down, kick those cigarette butts over here." I said, pointing to the ones that sat at the far corner of the couch.

For whatever reason, he didn't question me, he did as I asked.

Another long silence stretched on, and with out much talking going on, it left my mind to wonder.

What dose Beetlejuice do on his own time? I know he doesn't work, and I know that I'm the only friend he has that will spend more than fifteen minutes with him at a time. And surly he doesn't just sit at home. He's too ADHD for that.

Of course he did have a lot of lady friends he'd see every now and again. So I guess that could keep him entertained for awhile. But again, nobody will spend more than fifteen minutes at a time with him.

How dose the Ghost with the Most occupy himself?

Weirdly, It had never occurred to me that Beej had a life that didn't involve me.

"What do you do when I'm not around?"

He yanked the tab from the empty can of beer, cussing when it sliced open his red tipped finger, "What?"

"I said, what do you do when I'm not around?" I asked again.

He flicked the tab away the same way he would flick away a filter, "Same shit I do when you are around."

I didn't say anything more. I just gazed around his apartment, wondering if he would mind if I cleaned it, because I knew that some of the trash in the floor was mine. Like the grape soda can, the ice cream bar wrappers, and the half burned (he accidentally dropped his cigarette, still mad though) comic book. "Why?" he asked.

"Just wanted to know what I was missing."

He snorted, suddenly turning away from me, "You ain't missing a thing, Babes. Not a damn thing."

I woke up the next morning to Beetlejuice's hand on my shoulder, shaking me to wake up so I wouldn't be late for school.

And I thought it was funny.

Because this time when he woke me up, it didn't leave a bruise where he'd nudge me with his boot...


	3. Chapter 3

Hey all! I know the story is kinda boring right now, but there is a bigger plot to be heard.

I never really explained what's going on, and I really can't without spoiling anything. But I will say that before anything really eventful happens, we first have to go through Lydia's childhood.

Currently she is twelve.

By the by, this is the cartoon-verse

* * *

"Jack Frost is hard at work."

The snow was making a_ krunch! _noise as we walked through town. We'd just had an ice-storm, so everything was coated a thin layer of ice. It reminded me of the books from the Chronicles of Narnia series. Not really my choice of literature, but it was required reading in my school.

"Who the hell's Jack Frost?" Beetlejuice asked, stuffing his hand in his pocket._  
_

"Just a fictional character type thing. Kinda like Santa Clause. He brings Winter where ever he goes and puts the frost on your window with his staff."

He looked thoughtful for a second, like he was going to question me about it, but he just said, "Huh." and didn't ask anything more.

It was really early in the morning. I think it was 3:00 A.M. or something, but I'm not sure. Yeah, any normal human being would be asleep right about then, and I had been. But then I woke up, couldn't go back to sleep. And due to the ice storm, I was positive school was cancelled. So what better way to pass the time than to hang out with Beetlejuice?

He let out a puff of fog, "It's colder than a witches tit in a brass bra out here."

I didn't know what that was suppose to mean, so I just assumed it meant, 'It's really freakin' cold!'

"I like the cold. When all the trees and grass dies, my allergies aren't so bad."

"So that means you'll be sneezing less, right? Because that shit gets real old, real fast."

I gave him my meanest look, but it just made him snort in laughter, "I can't help it! Excuse me I can't be as perfect as you."

He threw his arm around my neck, dragging my head into his armpit, "Hey, don't let it get to you. It took me centuries to get as good as I am now."

"Smug ass." I mumbled, ignoring the smell of sweat and stale beer that lingered on his stripped jacket. It didn't do any good to tell him he smelled awful. So why bring it up?

"Ooh, Lydia said a bad word!" he sang like annoying eight year old, "I'm tellin' mom!"

He didn't drop his arm from around my neck, but he did loosen his grip enough that I wasn't forced into his armpit any more. "Ass isn't even a bad word. Stupid."

We walked for a couple of hours. Talking about this, that and something else. We'd ended up at the edge of town when I finally told him that I should probably go home.

"Wanna walk or just magically be home in three seconds?"

"Magically be home in three seconds," I said, "Mom and Dad will be awake before we get there if we walk."

I didn't realize Beetlejuice had stopped walking until I was tugged back suddenly. I'd been holding on the the cuff of his jacket.

"Why'd you stop?"

The expression he gave me was...odd. He didn't look angry, or even mildly irritated. Just focused. Intensely so.

"Lyds, have you ever thought of just telling your mom and dad to fuck off?"

I wasn't a bit put off by his language. I heard it all the time. My ears wear deaf to it nearly. "No, why would I tell them to F-off?"

He shrugged, "Because everything we do all rides on weather or not your parents might find out. It get's old."

"Real fast?"

I was graced with the, 'do-you-even-hear-yourself-talk look, then he smirked and took a hold of my wrist, "Let's get you home. Babies have curfews, after all."

As promised, we arrived at my house three seconds later. A shucked out of my winter get-up and sat on my bed, wrapping my comforter around myself. The clock on my night stand flashed 5:47 A.M.

"BJ, hide in my closet till my parents leave for work. We can play Mario when they leave."

He cracked his knuckles, "Sorry, kiddo, but old Beej is gonna have to go."

I imagine I looked a little shocked. Beetlejuice never turned down the chance to hang out. "Seriously? What do you have to do that's so important?"

He turned and threw a cruel smirk my way, "None of your business."

I felt a little insulted at this, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Whatever, I bet you're gonna go jerk-off."

His eyes brows turned down. "No, actually, " he pointed at the direction he knew my parents room was, "I have plans to fuck your mom senseless."

"Fine. Leave, then."

And he did. I didn't see him again for a few days. And that was probably a good thing. It never turns out good when we're together while mad at one another.

* * *

Okay, this chapter is really short. But, there's a reason for it. Things start picking up in the next chapter. So the writing style will be a little different and it will also be the last chapter written in Lydia's POV.


	4. Chapter 4

Goals for chapter 4

Must be at least 2,500 words

* * *

Little dialog

Beetlejuice is not in this chapter

* * *

_"Fine. Leave, then."_

_And he did. I didn't see him again for a few days. And that was probably a good thing. It never turns out good when we're together while mad at one another._

* * *

One week later...

The school bell rang an eardrum shattering sound that could bring either the joy of being dismissed for the day, or the dismay of signaling us to the next class. Suffice it to say, the student population had a love/hate relationship with the bell. I should know what it means to have a love/hate relationship.

I don't know what my deal was, but I just couldn't for the life of me wake myself up that day. I had somehow managed to sleep through half of my classes without getting in too much trouble. Hopefully my teachers wouldn't bring it up to whoever writes the yearly student reports. I'd hate to get bombard with 9 million questions from my parents.

The day seemed to drag on and on. I constantly checked the clock, and every time I did, only two or three minutes had passed. I looked down at the lunch I had packed myself. Peanut-butter and apple jelly. Not that great of a lunch, but it filled my stomach.

I glanced at the clock for the thousandth time, running my fingers through my hair, "Fuck me." I sighed.

I couldn't stop myself from thinking of Beetlejuice. I wasn't mad at him anymore. I was starting realize that Beej really did have a life of his own. Or not life, agenda, rather. An agenda that I just so happen to not be a part of. I had never realized how much of my time I spent with him. I asked him what he did when I wasn't around, but now I was asking myself what I did when he wasn't around.

I decided that the next time I saw him, I'd tell him I was sorry. I knew exactly what he'd say, "Don't sweat it, Babes!" and then things will go back to the where they'd always been. And I had every confidence in the world that's how it'd work out, because that's how it was every time we've ever had a fight.

The bell rang, damning all of us back to our classes.

I slid out from the stain less bench. On my slow trek to the cafeteria door, I looked at the clock once more.

.…...…... ...

School was finally over and done with. For today at least. I didn't care. I could content myself with just a short break from school, even if it was only for a night.

Okay, this needs to be said. Have you ever had a favorite character in a book or a tv show? And sometimes when you read, or watched, your favorite character was absent? All you want is to see your favorite character. The tv show, or the book, whatever it may be, is kinda boring without them, yeah? Well, needless to say, my life would've made an interesting book or tv show. I've made my point then. Beej was my favorite character, and right now he was absent. There for, my life ( the book, a tv show) was boring.

Beetljuice could be exhausting, immature, annoying, and down right infuriating, but he had a way of making everyday lifet less mundane. Like cleanings room. I hate cleanings room. Not because it'll just get dirty again, like most idiot brained kids thought. Because my mom always made my keep my room show room ready. I had to vacuum my own carpet every day, I had to wash my window(make sure not to leave streaks!) dust the tops of every flat surface, and God forbid I leave even one shirt lying on the ground. It was ridiculous to expect a kid to keep their room absolutely spotless 24/7. The one place I should be able to go to get away from everyone a by myself mom had ruined it for me. The only place a had left was the Niether World. At least I used to have a place there. I wasn't so sure. I would've figures that Beetljuice would be back by now.

I stared at the mirror from acrosswith the room. I was begging to hate that mirror. Or maybe I was starting to hate the image that stared back. I wanted to destroy the mirror. Or perhaps the who vacantly looked through me. If I gave the image a good whack with my Nintendo controller, then the mirror would brake too. Then I wouldn't have to sort out witch of them is was that I hated.

...

sorry this is so short. I still don't have Internet. The majority of this was typed on an iPhone 4. So excuse how messy it is. I didn't want to post before it was done, but I didn't wanna leave any one hanging.


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday school was a real bitch.

The last couple of weeks of school had been like a walk through Hell and back. Sleeping through my classes, and my failing grades had landed me in Saturday school for the next two week, and I couldn't have been more irate about it. The only up side to it was that it was only for a couple of hours.

I shuffled into the class room with the probably twelve other students that were condemned to the same fate as I. I had already decided that this was stupid, so as soon as class started I was going to see how many times I could excuse myself to the bathroom in the course of an hour.

The clock strikes ten, and class begins.

* * *

Two hours later school was over. I had just got on the bus and was heading home. I didn't want to go home, but where else could I go? I could always go to my friends house, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to be around anybody. I didn't want to be around people. More accurately, humans. Without Beetlejuice around, I was starting to realize the disdain I had for the real world. I've never been a people person, but I could always interact with them, at least. Now I was losing that ability.

How long had it been since I'd seen Beej, anyway? It seemed like it'd been awhile. If I had to guess, it'd been a month, or so. Or was it a week? Maybe less? I had no idea. My days and my nights all blurred into one, yet still dragging on for an eternity. Just a constant stretch of time.

Eat, sleep, go to school, finish home-work, eat again, go back to sleep. That was my constant. It was monotonous. It was irritating . It was boring. And it was killing me. I used to love my everyday life. I spent a lot of time in the Neither World, but I had loved my normal life to. Now I hated it, and I wanted leave it and never come back.

My life carried on this way for three months. Not a sign of Beetlejuice anywhere. I wasn't sad, not really. But I was far from happy. It's a hard feeling to describe. It was in a way, lonely, even though I was constantly surrounded by people. Or maybe it wasn't a feeling at all. Maybe I felt nothing, and had just convinced myself I had felt something. Anything.

My opinions of people and the world I lived in continued to plummet at break necks speeds. Like waking up one morning for a breakfast of eggs and toast. Its the same breakfast you've had your whole life. But one morning you realize you hate eggs and toast. And for the first time, (or perhaps the millionth time) it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Strange though. You've never had a problem eating eggs and toast for breakfast. At the same time, though, you can't honestly say you liked egg and toast. But you were always content to eat it. In fact, you've always been content to eat whatever was put in front of you. Egg, toast, waffles, strawberries, muffins, pancakes, cereal, oatmeal... Hell it didn't even have to be food.

Words. We've all been fed words before. More acculturate, lies. Sometimes we may get a truth or two for desert. I've found that the best told lies usually taste the best thou-

I looked down and my diary. The corners of the cover were bent round, and the paper soft from being tossed here and there. That was the outward appearance though. I stared blackly at the contents of what I'd just written. It sounded crazy, even to me. And I'd just written it. My hands were shaking as I closed the diary.

I'm losing it. I couldn't help but think that.

I hoped Beetlejuice would come back soon.

* * *

Christ alive... I have no excuse for this chapter being so short, or it taking so long for me to post it. Well, I actually have a valid explanation, but I'd rather not get into it.

Beetlejuice is coming back! Next chapter, I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

This is the day my life began. No, it's not the day I was born.. This day, Beetlejuice came back for me.

* * *

"Lydia, come here please!" Mom called from the living room.

I didn't want to get out of bed, I was far too content to lay about feeling sorry for myself. Obedient child I was, though, I trudged down the stairs.

"Yes ma'am?" I stepped in front of my mom, looking at my shoes.

"Here," she said, placing a ten dollar bill in my hand. I looked at it like it was a fake, "What's this for?"

She stands and grabs her purse, "It's for the arcade."

I'm flabbergasted. The arcade? Neither one of my parents even approved of video games. Why in the world would she give me money to the arcade?

"You're sending me away, aren't you?" I say, deadly serious. "You're giving me arcade money so that when two big guys in suites and some Marry Popins wanna comes to drag me away I won't be as angry."

My mom just scoffs, "Come along, I have shopping to do and I know how much you hate the super market, so I'll drop you off."

She picked up her car keys that were hung up by the door, and out she went, leaving me standing there feeling oddly outside myself. The car horn honked twice before I came back to myself. I ran out the door to my waiting mom.

* * *

"I'll be back in about an hour. Don't get into any trouble."

"Okay," I looked up finally after staring at my shoes for the duration of the conversation, "bye mom."

She pulled out of the parking lot, leaving me to my games.

I went up to the counter and asked the man upfront to break my ten dollar bill into quarters. I laid the bill on the counter top and looked at my shoes. Lately they'd become a fascination of sorts. I heard the quarters dropping in front of me. I looked up to thank him.

I may have smiled. I may have scream. Maybe I cried. I've no idea. But I do know that for two seconds my heart stopped. And then, a second later, my heart was restarted. And suddenly my world was colorful again and my shoes were no longer interesting, and I didn't feel alone anymore.

"Say, babes, are we going to play games, or are we gonna stand here and have a staring contest?"

* * *

Two Years Later

Well guys, I had fun sharing my story with you. It was short I know, but it was kinda exciting.

Somethings are happening in the human world that I'd rather not be about of.

I just turned fourteen a week ago. Not really a biggie, just thought it'd be worth mentioning.

I've packed everything I own, and tomorrow I'm leaving for the Neither World.

I'm not really excited, but I am eager to settle down there.

My only regret is that I know my parents will never stop looking for me. They will grow into old people wondering what happened to me.

And while that breaks my heart, I've come to realize that I no longer have a place here in the human world. My existence here will be wasted if I stayed.

I may come back someday, but not as Lydia Deets. I'll just be a ghost. A nameless ghost, just passing through.

I'll miss my friends. And I'll miss my parents. But tomorrow, I'll never want for anything ever again.

* * *

Alright, enough is enough. Thus far this story has not been everything I want it to be. But I'm determined to finish it. We're not nearly to the end. This is actually where the story begins. (cliche, i know).

Lydia is not a woman yet, before you ask. She's got a few more memories to make.

This is the last chapter she narrates, though. Up til now, everything has been a bit of a flash back. Which is a good thing because I dunno if you guys have noticed, but I'm terrible at first person POV.

Each chapter's gonna be longer, and I will making time to work on them, I swear.

Things are also gonna get more graphic. Probably not smut, but every aspect will be grittier.

Next chapter will be quality, I swear. I can't keep putting out short shitty chapters like this.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and encouraged me to continue this.

See you a few.


	7. Chapter 7

Humans are alive. That's why they live in the world of the living. Because they live. Everyday they live their lives. So mundane. So boring. The one exception to this was Lydia. She was human. She was definitely alive. And she also saw the monotony of living. She, in a sense, chose to die. To be the breather among the breathless. To be the bleeder to those who'd long ago bled out. To be alive in the world of the dead.

Imagine the Neither World. You probably think of something Halloween themed? Nope. Second guess, probably something reminiscent to Hell? No. Wrong again. Think closer to home. Imagine Earth. Yes, Earth. Different colors. Different physics. Different dimensions. Different people. Just Earth, but different.

People were not born here. No one has ever been born in death. The closest any would ever be was if they were stillborn.

Lydia Deets would be the first living resident in the Neither. And Betelgeuse couldn't have been more satisfied. Why? Because his grip on Lydia was that much stronger. Before there was always a chance that she could drift away from him. It was a very real possibility that Lydia could one day grow up. Or rather, come to her damn senses. That was the last thing Betelgeuse wanted.

It was all just a waiting game now. With Lydia having just turned fourteen, menstruation could happen literally any second now. And to Betelgeuse's surprise, he was not in a hurry.

In the three or so years he'd known her, he could openly say he was attached. Did he love her? No. But there was defiantly some attachment.

Sounds heartless, right? No, actually it wasn't. Firstly, for Betelgeuse to admit he was simply, 'attached' to someone was huge. And when considering he'd died in the sixteen hundreds back when it was the norm to marry woman after their first cycle, was he really being a bad guy?

Betelgeuse was more than happy to wait on Lydia to grow up. He had plenty of drinking and fucking and movies and whatever else he wanted to do before then.

And tonight looked like a movie night.

"Think your parents are probably looking for you right about now?" Betelgeuse asked, sitting on the edge of the couch so he could see what Lydia was drawing in her small sketch book.

"I imagine so," she said as she propped her head on the heal of hand. She laid on her stomach sketching, kicking her legs up and down, her ankles crossed. "I'll bet the search began twenty minutes after I didn't come home from school."

She looked up from her sketching and stared at nothing in particular, "Maybe they'll have another kid." she said, "When the get tired of looking for me." She added.

Betelgeuse scoffed, sitting back on the couch. "They're both mentally retarded if they think they can simply have another kid and that'll fix the problem. I guarantee you that half the town'll thinks your parents had something to do with your disappearance."

Lydia closed her book, she sat up and crossed her arms over Betelgeuse's knees, leaning into him. "Why do you think that?"

He plucked a cigarette from the box and lit it, "Think about it, kiddo, " he paused to take a drag, "How often did kids go missing in your town?"

She turned it over in her mind, "Not often." she breathed.

"And think back to that one time one did go missing. Who did it?"

Lydia looked up at Betelgeuse, "I didn't want my parents to go to jail."

He took another drag, then turned the cigarette around in his fingers and stuck the filter to her lips, "They'll be fine, babes. There's no proof they had anything to do with it. And if there is, well. Fuck 'em. Inhale and hold it in." He finished.

She did, then Betelgeuse brought it back to his mouth for another drag.

Lydia laid her head down on her crossed arms, still leaning on Betelgeuse. They sat like that for a long time. Maybe it wasn't a long time, at least long enough for them to have finished two cigarettes between the two of them.

"Are we watching a movie tonight?" the question was somewhat muffled.

Betelgeuse shrugs, putting their cigarette out on the couch, creating another burn, "I guess if you want."

* * *

It's 3:00 A.M. Neither time. It's still light outside, even though there is no sun in the sky. Lydia's not sure where the light comes from. It's just there. For weeks and weeks, the light is there. And suddenly, it'll be dark. But not black. Instead of the yellowish incandescent light, it's a soft blue light. Like the kind of light the television casts on the walls when all the lights in the house are shut off.

The days in the Neither are longer, or so it seems. Maybe her body is still just trying to adjust to the new dimension.

The weather has got to be the biggest pain in the ass to deal with. Some days are so sweltering hot that Lydia thinks she's going to have a heat stroke. While other days its so freezing cold that she has to camp out in front of the gas stove with the door propped open to survive. She wonders why Betelgeuse is not affected the way she is.

The days are long, the weather is a moody bitch, and the lack of a sun and moon is just down right creepy, but Lydia was right. She can never want for anything. She's happy, and she belongs. Her days are spent wandering all over the Neither. It's endless, so she well never run out of places to go. All though Betelgeuse has kindly suggested she stay in the general area, it's still an exciting thought for her, to know that there's more out there.

Today the weather is stuck in between. Meaning it's not too hot, and it's not too cold. Lydia is outside, sitting on the ground inspecting a sort-of moth/scorpion looking insect. She's been in the Neither world for a month now. She wonders what her parents are doing. She hopes in a way that they just forget bout her. She hopes that they're not too sad over her leaving. She hopes for a lot of things.

A sigh escapes her as she flops onto the brownish grass. It had been green yesterday, but yesterday had been a long time a go, so of course it'd be dead by now. She hears the back door creek, then seconds later hears Betelgeuse walking toward her.

Lydia just continues to stare at the sky. Today its red. Who knows what color it will be tomorrow.

Betelgeuse takes a moment to notice some changes in her appearance. Her hips are a little wider, her face is thinner, her breasts, while still small, are definitely fuller than before. It should be far more interesting than it is. But it simply...isn't. Maybe it's because there are no sexy clothes shop around that she could go to to show herself off. Or maybe it's that Betelgeuse can't get it up for a kid he's known since she was eleven...

Betelgeuse suddenly wishes he had been sent to Saturn.

"What'ya doing layin' around in the dirt, kiddo?"

"Meh," she shrugs,"watching the clouds. I'm kinda bored."

"Ah," he reply's as if he completely gets the appeal, "I'm gonna head down to the bar if you wanted to come with me. Maybe you could actually drink some liqueur this time."

Lydia frowned at him, "If we're both drunk, how will we find our way home?"

Betelgeuse gently took Lydias hand in his, "Babes, the Neither is our home. Tonight, we own the stage."

* * *

More to come...


	8. Chapter 8

Own the stage they did.

After hours of drinking and fucking and vomiting, Betelgeuse, with a quite drunk Lyida in tow, stumbled down the cracked concrete steps of the bar. Betelgeuse wrapped his hand around Lydia's wrist to keep her steady, snorting a laugh, "You light-weight!"

Lydia looked up at him, squinted, and said, "Where do we live again?"

Betelgeuse never thought he'd see the day when he thought something was 'cute'. Well, he had. Actually, that was damn adorable in his opinion. "We live right across town, ya bar room flussie."

Lydia just blinked, "I'm not a pussy. Yer a pussy!"

His brows knit together, "One, I said flussie, not pussy. Two, you're an angry drunk, which sucks, because I was hoping for a funny drunk."

Drunk logic, being drunk logic, Lydia had picked up something funny in that, and giggled, "You're a funny drunk!"

Betelgeuse spun Lydia around, which she found hilarious, and said her down on the steps, "No, I'm just _drunk_ drunk. Hey, can you make it home with out passing out on the way? I'd love to just _whoosh! _all the way over there magically, but I also don't want to get barfed on."

Lydia gazed at the ground, giggling softly to herself, "We are home." she said, swiping her sleeve over her nose, sniffling from the cold.

He didn't understand, she was talking to softly for him to hear her, "What?"

She looked up at Betelgeuse, and for a second, he'd swear she was stone cold sober, "We are home. The Neither is our home. We have nowhere to go, because we're already here."

Her tone was cold. Separated from the rest of her, and it made Betelgeuse's insides clench. "Baby, I really don't think you'd rather sleep on the ground as apposed to sleepin' on the couch. Besides, you're still alive, you'll freeze to death out here."

Her gaze shifted to a weed growing from the cracks in the stairs, "Oh yeah, I forgot I was still alive."

Betelgeuse decided to carry her home. He didn't get barfed on, but she did pass out.

* * *

"You fucking bastard!" screeched a horribly decayed man/woman(?), "I hope you rot in Saturn!"

Lydia laughed loudly as she ran from what she could only guess was a grocery store. She spun around quick enough to give the shop owner the finger before she started running again.

The lack of parenting and rules was reflecting on Lyida prominently. While still her sweet moral self, she was beginning to develop a bit of a haughty attitude. She'd noticed the change gradually becoming worse. At first she held herself back, still hung up on being the perfect child and perfect student. Then she realized she didn't have to be. As long as Betelgeuse didn't say anything to her about it, she couldn't give lesser fucks.

The sourceless light continued to shine all over the Neither World, even though it should be approaching evening by Earth time. That was one of Lydia's favorite aspects of living here. It was almost never dark out side, so she could go anywhere she wanted at any given time.

The town had suddenly gone quiet, there for losing Lydia's interest, so she decided to head home.

It was times like this when Lydia wished she had Betelgeuse's powers. Walking home would take her at least an hour. But, that's what she gets for wandering so far off.

A bug landed on her leg, stinging her before she had the change to swat it off. She sets down on the curb and inspects the bite up close. The bite itself is not bad, but she notices that her pale legs are covered in dirt smudges and were in bad need of a shave. She felt ashamed of herself. At fourteen years old, she shouldn't have to be reminded to bath and shave. Thinking back on it, she realizes that a razor is probably the one thing she forgot to bring. She'd make it a point to ask Betelgeuse for one as soon as she made it back.

Every once in a while, Lydia would break into a light jog, so to get home quicker. This proved to be effective, as she made it to the house in just 44 minutes.

Walking into the house, she found Betelgeuse passed out on the couch, one arm hanging to the floor, and for some reason no shirt on at all. Her brows knit together in confusion as she shrugged and continued on into the bathroom.

Of course, Betelgeuse didn't own any soap, but she could make do washing herself with hot water. She cleaned out the bath as best she could before filling it. She stripped off her shirt and shorts when Betelgeuse opened the door and stepped in, "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, peering at the bath full of water.

"It's called taking a bath. You wouldn't know, though."

Betelgeuse was content with her smartass answer, "Sounds phenomenal. Now get out so I can piss."

She stepped out of the bathroom, the door closing behind her. Standing out in the hall in just her underwear was a bad idea. The temperature was dropping, and she wanted to bathe quickly so her hair would have the chance to dry before she went to sleep.

A minute later, Betelgeuse emerged from the bathroom, "All yours."

She stepped into the bathroom and almost closed the door when she remembered to ask, "What happened to your shirt?"

He looked down at his bare chest as if he'd completely forgotten about not having one on. "Ah, sometime last night I barfed all over the damn thing."

Something suddenly caught his interest. It was Lydia's body. And not a, cock-twitching-in-pants kind of way, more of a stomach churning way. She was small. No, she'd always been small. She was starving. Anorexic. She almost looked like a properly dead person. Betelgeuse looked at her eyes. She looked as if nothing was wrong. Emotionally, she seemed to be herself. Something was wrong. He knows she's eating. He makes it a point to at least makes sure she eats one meal a day.

He turns away before Lydia gets the idea he's staring. He hears the door close behind him.

He lights up a cigarette and falls down across the couch. What could be wrong? He knows she's always been smaller than the other children she was schooled with, but she wasn't all bones and angles like that. He tossed his pack of cigarettes around, thinking. He looked at the label on the small, rectangle box. "Safe to smoke because you're already dead!" it read. It suddenly dawned on him what the problem was.

Lydia was from a different dimension. Her body reacted differently to the environment around her. That was why the heat and the cold was always so extreme to her, hardly ever in the middle. That was also why smoking didn't effected her health. That's why only one beer would get her positively 's plastered. That's why the food wasn't nourishing her.

"Aw, fuck," he swung his legs over, putting his feet onto the floor.

They were going to have to make a trip to the human world.


	9. Chapter 9

"I don't want to go back!"

A small boney fist collided with Betelgeuse's face. It hardly did any damage. It's the thought that counts, he thinks.

"It's not like I'm going to leave you there! It's just a visit! Just long enou- fucking stop!" he shouts, prying her away from him. "What the hell, Lydia," not good, he thinks, I shouldn't have said that. I never use her name, "Look at yourself," he gestures toward her, "You dying of starvation. The food here was never meant to sustain life. It was made to pass the time. I could never eat again and I'd be just fine."

Lydia dropped the the dirty carpet, digging her nails in it. "I can't go back. I don't belong there. I need to stay here."

Betelgeuse glares, blond eyebrows forwarding, "Listen, " he says through clenched teeth, "Either you go with me to grab some food of your own accord, or I will knock your ass out and make you go anyway." he stepped closer, grasping each of Lydias shoulders, pulling her from the carpet and dropping her to the couch, "Your choice."

Her eyes grew glassy, and she sniffed, "I can't take the chance." she swiped her sleeve over her eyes.

Betelgeuse sighed, biting his bottom lip in irritation, "What chance can't you take?"

Lydia stood up. She stepped in front of Betelgeuse, looking up at him, "What If I wanted to stay in the human world? What would I do? In a world where I didn't belong, what would become of me?"

Betelgeuse's breath hitched, just barley noticeable. He'd never once in the month and a half that Lydia had been living here considered that she wanted to leave. That frightened him. He didn't want her to leave. Sure, their friendship had been fine when she lived with other humans, and he'd lived in the Neither. But now he'd had her at his side at all times. It was different now. He wouldn't be able to cope.

Betelgeuse looked down at her, "Do you want to go home?"

She couldn't look at him. She ducked her head, her shoulders trembling, "Yes, but I can't, " she whispered, "I can't ever belong with them. I never could after I met you."

Betelgeuse knew that if he had a pumping heart it would hurt right now. All he was capable of feeling was cold indifference. He gently placed his hands on the sides of her head, tilting it up, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You don't have to go, then. I'll go by myself."

He was still holding onto her head as she grasped his wrists with her tiny hands, "Why? Let me starve to death. Then you won't be bothered to get food, and I won't have the temptation of going back."

For a second, Betelgeuse was not there. He'd left himself. Echoes of what Lydia'd just saying tormenting him for a million years and not even a second all at once. Let her die? He could never let that happen, let alone watch. Then, something hit him. Hard.

Lydia is alive. She's alive. She's fucking alive! What dose that mean? She's aging. Meaning? One day she will grow old and die anyway. Making this fussing and arguing all for naught. He couldn't let that happen. She couldn't die. Even if that meant she'd be with him for eternity, she would not die. Betelgeuse would never damn her to the Neither for all eternity like him. No, he was getting out. They, were getting out.

This poses a problem, doesn't?

With every moment he is thinking about this, Lydia is getting a little bit older. He doesn't know how to stop this.

But he will.

* * *

Betelgeuse's house is positively packed with human food. It's taken over all of the kitchen and a better part of the living room. It's fine, though. Because of Betelgeuse's lack of furniture, there's plenty of room.

They carry on with their life. Or unlife. Lydia eats her human, and gains back a healthful amount of weight, and Betelgeuse drinks, smokes and fucks. They cause trouble with the locals, get themselves banned from the casino, and Lydia continues to age.

Betelgeuse had not a kind heart when he was alive, and his lifeless heart was the same. So why did he feel so torn?

Hard truths, the whole point in befriending Lydia was to marry her when she became a woman so he could leave the Neither. His dilemma was that he'd grown quite attached to his little bride-to-be. He was flexible, though, he could work that around to his favor. He would be spending all eternity with her, so it'd stand to reason that being somewhat attached to her was probably a good thing.

Only now it occurred to him that she was aging. Not only that, but her body just wasn't meant for the Neither. Hell, he wouldn't have to worry about her dying of old age, he'd almost let her starve to death in just a month and a half! She'd die here if he allowed her to stay. But he couldn't stop her from aging. And even if he could, then he'd never marry her for the lack of a period, thus never escaping the Neither.

He was stuck.

He needed advice.


	10. Chapter 10

Betelgeuse has completely forgotten his whole reason for manipulating Lydia, and Lydia finds a way to repay Betelgeuse for his forgetfulness.

* * *

"I don't want her to die."

The rotting corpse raised a brow, "Then marry her. Problem solved."

Betelgeuse groaned, pulling at his hair, "It's a work in progress. I need some information."

"Well," he said, pushing his rolling chair back towards a filing cabinet, "Seeing as how you came to the living archives, I'll take you're looking for something that pertains to the living human body." he looked back over his shoulder, "So, what specifically, are you looking for?"

"I need to know about women."

The corpse snorted, "No kidding." he rifled through the cabinet for a second or so. Having worked there for last couple of centuries, he knew right where every thing was at. He dropped a thick folder on the desk.

"Anything else?"

Betelgeuse flicked the corner of the folder with his thumb, "Uh, no, this should be fine."

"Betelgeuse," the corpse said, "I can't keep this covered up. You're going to have to read what you need, take notes, whatever you need to do to get your information, because I can't let this file leave the archive. I shouldn't even let you read this."

Betelgeuse nodded. He knew how corrupt the Neither World was. They didn't want anyone to know anything about the living because they didn't want anyone to want to leave the Neither. "Keep your pants on, this shouldn't take long."

The corpse watched as Betelgeuse flipped through the folder, "You said it's a work in progress. Why?"

"She's not a woman yet."

"Ah, that dose pose a bit of a problem."

Betelgeuse read everything he felt was necessary to know, took some notes on his arm with a pen, slammed the folder shut and pushed his chair back.

"I think I got everything I need to know." he lit a cigarette, taking a long drag.

"Why don't you want her to die?"

Betelgeuse stopped, hand on the door knob, "Because I just don't." he said.

The corpse stood from his desk, walking around to stand beside the ghost. "You wouldn't normally care. I'm honestly curious, here. You can tell me. It'll never leave this office."

Betelgeuse gently closed the door so anyone walking in the hall wouldn't hear, "I owe her a favor. Satisfied?"

"You owe her a favor? And you're honoring this favor?"

The poltergeist sighed in irritation, "Yeah, I owe her a favor. I'm paying it back by granting her immortality."

The undead corpse grinned, "Though the process of marriage, of course."

Flicking the ash from his cigarette, he opened the door, "Now you're catching up, Einstein."

That said, Betelgeuse left without another word.

* * *

Lydia lay upside down on the couch. Her hair was a mess, and clung to her for head in clumps. She wore nothing but her sweat soaked bra and an old pear of shorts. It was beastly hot in the house today. The dusty curtains swayed with the sweltering breeze. Lydia had opened every window in the house, hoping to get some relief from the heat.

Lydia dully acknowledged the sound of the front door opening.

Her ghost walked through the living room, carrying a case of beef ramin. He laid it with the other stacks of ramin, which sat in a corner they had cleverly dubbed, 'Ramin Corner'.

He stepped in front of her, studying her.

She still looked healthy, he thought. She didn't look so thin, and her skin had a fleshly, less ashen look to it.

But, she's still getting older...

What if she never became a woman? She's getting older, that's for sure, but she hasn't really reached maturity.

Betelgeuse couldn't watch her die. He refused.

"You look comfortable." he grinned, noticing her lack of clothes.

"Its hot." she whined, sliding a little further off the couch.

Betelgeuse snorted at her, flopping down on the couch beside her, "Yeah, it is fuckin' hot today.

Neither one of them said much after. As the day progressed, the air became colder. Lydia covered up with an abandoned shirt she'd found within her reach and slowly but surely settled up against her ghost. They sat like that long into the day, watching tv. Quiet, motionless. Every now and again they would smoke a cigarette. Lydia slept on and off, never quite falling asleep, but never fullly conscious. Their lazying about was only truly broken when Betelgeuse threw in the towel for a piss.

"Up," he pushed her head from his lap, "I gotta take a leak."

Lydia groaned, rolling completely off the couch. She watched the ghost walk from their food stocked living room into the bathroom.

She wondered if he'd ever get tired of her hanging around. He'd already had to go through so much trouble. All the food. Keeping her warm, (and cool, if he could, but there didn't seem to be much he could do for the heat. No A/C, no way of getting one, either.) he kept her entertained for the most part. He'd been good to her. More than she deserved.

She needed to repay him. Show him how much she loved him.

If only she knew how.

After a minute or so Betelgeuse came back. He'd grabbed a soda on the way back. He sat back on the couch, taking the remote and browsing the channels. Lydia pulled herself back upon the dingy furniture, draping herself over the ghost. She knew what men liked. She wasn't stupid. She knew what Betelgeuse liked. Two years ago when they'd had that awful fight, she'd known what Betelgeuse was up to. Lydia knew he was out fucking any woman that would have him. It wasn't hard to piece together.

She'd do it. For him, she'd do anything.

* * *

Hey, all. So It's been a long time since I've updated. Well, I've had to move, and I know longer have internet.

Answers some questions: Why did I switch from Beetlejuice to Betelgeuse? I was using the switch as a way to show that Lydia, and the fic itself, was growing up.

Betelgeuse, like I mentioned above, has grown so attached to Lydia, he now sees his marriage to her as a way to make her immortal, rather than getting the link that tethers him to the Neither World, severed.

Thank you for sticking with this. Any questions, feel free to ask.


	11. Chapter 11

Lydia waited until Betelgeuse had sat back on the couch next to her, a sick form of anticipation broiling in her stomach. She's never done anything like this. She'd never even thought about it.

Betelgeuse had grown used to Lydia's random bouts of clingy. He didn't think much of it when she draped her mostly naked body across his. The ghost picked the remote up from the cushion beside him, looking for something to occupy his tired brain until he passed out.

Lydia fiddled with the hem of his stripped suit. She may have looked calm, but her heart felt like it had gone into overdrive. As if it was trying to compensate for all of the hearts that weren't beating in the Neither. And she hadn't even made so much as a hint to what she wanted to do.

"You should go take a shower." she said, "You smell worse than usual."

Betelgeuse didn't even take his eyes from the screen,"Well, fuck you too, kiddo, I could say the same."

Lydia giggled. She loved it when he threw insults back at her. It meant that she got a rise outta him.

Suddenly, Lydia was lifted up and swung heavily into the back of the couch. She swiped her black hair from her face, "What're you doing?" she asked, as her ghost made for the bathroom.

Betelgeuse turned to her with his hand on the door, "Wouldn't want to offend your precious nostrils." he said, flipping her off as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Lydia laid across the old couch for a couple of minutes after she heard the water start running, wondering if she was brave enough to go in there and try to...

Try to have sex with Betelgeuse.

Sex. Sex with Betelgeuse. The more she thought about it the more she wanted to do it. She wasn't aroused by the thought, but something kept screaming at her that it was the right thing to do. As if it were destined to happen. But she was nervous. She'd never had sex before. She'd barley even touched herself a hand full of times. Lydia wouldn't even know where to start. Hell, how to finish it. What to do during.

Betelgeuse had taught her a lot of things over the years. Maybe he could teach her about this, too. Surely, he knew what he was doing.

To Lydia, Betelgeuse knew everything.

* * *

It wasn't long until Betelgeuse emerged from the bathroom, steam rolling from his ashen skin, and oddly enough, wearing sweat pants and nothing else.

He sat down on the couch, lighting two cigarettes, passing one off to Lydia.

Lydia smoked a lot these days. She wasn't proud of it, but they made her feel valid in a way she couldn't even explain to herself.

As she smoked she tried to discreetly peak at Betelgeuse, trying to find details about him that she hadn't noticed before.

There weren't any. He was the same as he had been before Lydia had even even thought of having sex with him. His hair was still long and blond, his nails still red, yellow iris, same beer gut. She did notice, though, that he had blond chest hair. Actually, all of his body hair was blond.

She wasn't quite sure what she'd do with those new details, but she had them.

They watched the TV even though it was on mute. It seemed to Lydia that the longer she stayed in the Neither, the easier her brain could be stimulated. She sometimes worried that her IQ may have been dropping, but really, why would she care. It's not like she would it need for school anymore. Or to ever hold down a job. She had Betelgeuse. She didn't need to be smart anymore.

It worried her though, because some days felt like a dream. Sometimes she couldn't even think clearly enough to talk to her ghost. If that worried him in anyway, he never expressed it. He'd just wait until she was able to form a proper sentence to talk to her.

Some days she felt hyper aware. She could hear her own blood being pumped through her veins, and see every leaf that made up a tree, and see every molecule that made up the dirt that she would kick around when she was bored, because Betelgeuse had gone out, and he told her to stay put if he wasn't home, and that just wasn't fair, because she refused to be treated like a child again, dammit, he had no right to tell her what she could and coul-

Those were vary intense days.

Betelgeuse un-muted the TV, dropping the remote next to Lydia.

"We gotta get a better fuckin' cable package," he sighed, lying his face against his fist, propping his elbow up on the arm of the couch.

Lydia hummed in agreement. There was never anything really interesting to watch. She absently wondered why she was so concerned about TV when she was suppose to be plotting a way into Betelgeuse's pants. Knowing his reputation, she imagined it couldn't be too hard to convince him to take it 'em off.

I should just say it, she thought, fidgeting her hands.

I'll do it. I'm going to say it. Just throw it out there.

"Beej."

"Lydia."

"I... I want you to, um," she felt herself start to sweat. She was getting nauseous just from asking a damn question.

Betelgeuse cut his eyes towards her, cocking a brow, "Sometime today, baby? You know I got a very small attention threshold. "

"I want to have sex. With you. Um, tonight." she couldn't look at him. She just couldn't.

But everything was so quiet now. Even with the TV on. It was starting to feel like a hyper aware kind of day. And she knows she had a dreamy kind of day since she'd woken up.

When the TV had been muted again, she had to look at him. But she really didn't want to. She really, really, did not want to.

His face wasn't angry, or disgusted, or even confused. If anything, all Lydia could say was that he looked serious. Which was a rare look on Betelgeuse.

"Why?"was all he asked.

And Lydia sighed in relief, because that meant he was willing to hear her out.

So, Lydia spent the better part of the night pleading her case.


End file.
